House of Fire (Unraveled Series) (3 page)

She had done what she
could to make the most of her term; the students, she hoped, would reflect a
professor with difficult yet engaging curriculum on the evaluations to pass the
scrutiny of the chair of the department and, furthermore, Holston Parker.
Although she didn’t want to fail - she had never failed anything in her life - she
despised the fact that she had to perform to meet his expectations. She hovered
over the submit button, wondering what he would do if she was fired from Leighton.

“Delaney?”

“Yeah,” Delaney answered
as she swiveled in her chair to see June’s head poking over the divider.

“Are you almost
ready?” June’s hair bobbed as she stepped into the room. Her hemp, floor-length
skirt flowed in behind her like a whisper. Had it not been for June, Delaney
doubted she would still be sitting in her office chair able to worry about
student evaluations. June had pulled a struggling Delaney out of the winter
term, shoving syllabi and course outlines into her hands.

“Yep, just finishing
my last entries,” Delaney said as she hit the submit button on the screen.

“How does it feel?”
June asked, leaning onto Delaney’s desk as she grabbed the pottery piece that
held Delaney’s brushes. June ran her fingers along the bulged lip of the vase. Despite
her innate ability to paint, Delaney hadn’t mastered the pottery wheel.

“How does what feel?
The lip on the vase? You tell me.” Delaney laughed.

“The vase is
terrible. My ninety-five-year-old grandmother could have done a better job with
her eyes closed. I’m talking about having your first year under your belt,”
June replied, setting the vase back down in its place.

“Relieved.” Relief
was a gross understatement for her first year, but June wouldn’t ever
understand the magnitude of her own question. Delaney wanted nothing else than
to forget everything about the first year of teaching. Forget about Theron.
Forget about Holston Parker.

“It only gets better
and easier,” June offered.

“Let’s hope.” Delaney
swung her body out of the chair and closed her laptop. “Let’s go.”

They stepped into the
morning summer sun beating onto the fresh and vacant green lawns of campus.
With the halls now closed, most of the student population had scattered back
home and a lucky few had traveled overseas. The constant movement and chatter
of campus had been replaced with a silent, rustling of trees. The early summer
day hadn’t yet morphed into the stifling humidity of July and August; the air
was still dry and the type of warm that begged for an afternoon break from the
office.

June and Delaney
followed the sidewalk past the Union, and Delaney held her breath just as she
always did for a brief moment, feeling the eyes of Theron’s roommate penetrate
her the day of the search. She wondered if she would ever be able to walk by that
building without feeling those eyes against her skin. Staying at Leighton
seemed impossible, yet Holston hadn’t given her any other choice.

They turned the corner, walking the path of the
recently poured concrete, the color still a hint of dark gray. All around them
were preparations to reshape the landscape around the campus’s newest building.
The True Green landscaping crew littered the dirt on either side, armed with
rakes and shovels. A small garden tractor buzzed by, pulling a rake to smooth
the black dirt to prepare the ground for the sod.

A landscaper in a bright green t-shirt lined up
the spireas and boxwoods along the path, adding plush greenery to the dirty
landscape. Pops of blue and white, Leighton’s school colors, surrounded a
beautiful water feature near the front entrance. Another man in bright green
held a garden hose, filling the fountain to the brim. A gold plaque was adhered
to the front of the fountain, “Parker Tower,” homage to the biggest donor and
the building’s namesake. She wanted to knock the fountain down with a rogue
tractor.

Delaney’s stomach twisted as she looked up at the
building; the expansive glass east-facing wall overlooked the river. It was a
disgustingly beautiful addition to campus. The Grand Opening Gala for Parker
Tower was in two days. Parker Enterprises and especially the host, Holston
Parker, never missed an opportunity for a grand opening to showcase their work.

“Does Mark think they’ll be ready in time for the
Gala?” June asked, snapping Delaney away from her seething thoughts of Holston
Parker.

“They don’t have a choice. They’ll be ready,” Delaney
replied as they walked under the entrance way where massive stone pillars held
a sweeping wooden pergola above, creating a series of casted shadows. Despite
the blockage of the sun’s rays, Delaney felt her skin flare as June pushed the
glass doors open.

“Breathtaking,” June whispered behind her. Parker
Tower was a campus center that housed the new dining facilities, conference
rooms, a small cinema, and student services. The over one hundred thousand
square foot facility was the shining beacon on campus. A place where pimply
faced teenagers would first visit accompanied by their parents with deep
pocketbooks, and where faculty would bring visiting staff from other more
prestigious universities like Brown and Harvard, boasting of the campus
facilities. It was the most impressive building in Appleton, next to Parker
Enterprises’ headquarters. It was the kind of structure that made visitors feel
more important than they were, giving them the impression that they actually
belonged, albeit a moment, to a higher society. It was the kind of building
that transported observers from their own reality into a world of stunning
beauty.
It doesn’t belong in Appleton. Not when it’s a part of him.

“Yeah,” Delaney whispered back as she looked up
to the coffered ceiling reaching forty feet into the air. Light poured into the
building on all sides, highlighting the natural slate floor. The metal
sculpture in the middle of the lobby stood like a glowing sophistication, the
sheen of the metal reflecting in all directions. It was the work of a student
in their department, Joe Kroin, a scraggly, long-haired senior with piss-poor
parents who had gained admission to the school on scholarship. Both June and
Delaney nodded their heads in admiration and approval. Kroin would find a
market for his art, unlike the rest of the student population, as creative and
talented as they were. The art scene in Appleton was dismal and the life of an
artist was, after all, just that.

There were white, makeshift signs taped to the
front reception area with red arrows pointing to the Four Clovers restaurant located
on the first floor along the east wall. “President’s Luncheon” was sprawled in
the same red marker. The Four Clovers restaurant boasted a well-known chef in
the culinary ring and state of the art kitchen for both students and community
members. The organic garden located just west of the building provided fresh
vegetables and fruit for all the meals in the dining hall. Another blue ribbon
for the town and campus, the new sustainable building was LEED certified,
touting Leighton as one of the top green campuses nation-wide.

Delaney’s eyes fell
on the familiar artwork decorating the halls on either side; student pieces from
her Oils and Drawing II classes were framed in succession. A graphite sketch of
Appleton’s waterfront brewery came into focus, the familiar waves of the water
and lines of the building drew into Delaney’s mind. The pen moved back and
forth with quick, fluid movement.
Theron
. She imagined what his scar
must look like; a raised, flesh-colored snake coursing across his hard chest, his
dog tags clanking against each other, hovering just over the scar, maybe even
grazing the top portion. Much to her relief, she hadn’t seen Theron since he
last visited her back in March. He had moved on, she had heard, to dating a
gorgeous brunette who was a freshman flutist. The criminal case settled, a
previously convicted felon now serving time for a crime he hadn’t committed. But
the felon’s damaging background and series of drug-induced violence sprees had
convinced the twelve jurors, without a doubt, that the man before them had
kidnapped Theron. All of the evidence had lined up, with the exception of
Theron’s recollection of a European accent that had never surfaced in court.
The mill workers had cheered in bars and the women had chattered on soccer
fields, all relieved that the psychotic man would be removed from their
streets. Despite the fact that he hadn’t committed
that
crime, Delaney
had agreed that he did indeed belong behind bars.

“Come on in, ladies,”
a woman’s voice called. President Given’s assistant, a stout woman with hair so
distinctly beet-colored that Delaney wondered if she had actually dyed her hair
with the vegetable, stood in the doorway ushering in faculty members. Delaney
glanced down at the woman’s hands as she passed, half-expecting to see the
purple-red hue glowing back at her.

June and Delaney
filtered into the clatter of the room, nodding and verbalizing the standard
cordials of acquaintances and strangers alike.
What a superb semester.
Summer research plans? Have you seen the view?

Delaney caught the
red, polka dot bow-tie and black cowboy hat of Dr. Conrad, the infamous
physicist celebrating his thirty-fifth year on campus. His eclectic personality
on campus was well-loved by students and faculty alike. Both enigmatic and
challenging, he was the type of person that everyone wanted at their party. She
gave him a congratulatory pat as they walked past.

Not far off, Dr.
Williams talked with a small circle nodding, her academically superior voice
always a little too loud. Leighton was a fish bowl of highly intelligent
and
highly-removed individuals.

Delaney felt the
unnecessary shine of the twelve chandeliers falling onto her shoulders. The
extravagant illumination wasn’t essential at this time of day with the flood of
light pouring through the wall of glass. The windows led to the view of the momentous
water flow of the Fox River, the rocky shores lapping the moisture greedily.
The old abandoned mills down the river served as a constant reminder of the
dying paper industry that the town had historically relied on. But Appleton was
trying to change with Holston Parker at its helm.

“Please be seated,”
the woman’s voice boomed through the speakers. Delaney spotted the beet-colored
coils behind the microphone before she felt the pull on her hand.

“Robert’s over there.”
June pointed to a waving Robert located near the front of the room. His thin
frame stood behind a set of chairs much too lavish for the student population.
The student chairs, she was sure, must have been stacked elsewhere.

“Grab a seat.” Robert
pulled a set of chairs out as they neared. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. A little
different than my college experience,” June replied, letting her skirt flow
over the edges of the chair in an endless sea of hemp.

“Agreed,” Delaney
whispered as the voice began again.

“Welcome to the first
annual President Luncheon at Four Clovers in Parker Tower. With no introduction
needed, I give you President Givens.”

Polite applause burst
through the dining room as the last faculty members filed into their seats. The
room was stocked with over ninety professors, both tenured and non-tenured
across academic disciplines. President Givens appeared behind a podium, his
tall frame and distinguished face making him a quintessential leader. His
stature stamped him as a CEO, though his glasses set him off as an academic.

“Thank you, Jan,” he replied
to his smiling assistant as she fumbled to her chair. President Givens’s voice
was strong and low, carrying through the hall. His presence was both well-respected
and deserved among the faculty as he thanked them for yet another wonderful
year at the university.

The luncheon
tradition, he proclaimed, would be the first of many to follow in the beautiful
facility. He continued, calling out members of the faculty for their
outstanding achievements throughout the semester. Each standing as they received
applause and basking in the recognition, like small children winning their
first trophies. Delaney tapped her foot on the ground, eager to roll through
the rest of the recognitions. As President Givens called his last name, Jan
snuck up to his side, whispering in his ear as the rest of the faculty stared
and applauded a fifty-something man with his pants hiked up to his chest and
black rimmed glasses set on his large nose. Delany had missed his name, but she
was sure he was from the Math Department.

“I want to welcome a
special surprise guest of mine,” President Givens began, lifting his hand to
the back of the room as more applause erupted, and heads turned in the
direction of his hand to a man in the back of the room. His hair speckled a
silvery black, his grey suit pressed into a pristine straightness, his stride
smooth and confident.
Holston Parker
.

Delaney’s throat
crawled as he neared her, each step sending her body into a deeper state of recoil.
The last time she had set eyes on him was in Evie’s attic loft. She had been
curled up on the bloodied cot, her body beaten and unable to escape his wrath. It
was their first official meeting and, subsequently, the introduction to her new
life in his control. Now only ten feet from her, his eyes narrowed in on hers,
watching, studying her face. His unflinching stare made his presence known. She
averted her eyes down, feeling immediately angry for her downward glance.
Coward.

“The man responsible
for this masterpiece, this endowment upon the university, and a good friend of
mine, Holston Parker.” President Givens welcomed him with a firm handshake and
the yacht club, upper arm pat that every businessman and member of the good old
boys’ network was well rehearsed in.

“Thank you, President
Givens, for letting me intrude on your luncheon. I was in the building,
ensuring the final touches will be ready for our grand opening in two days,
when I heard the first clatter of the Four Clovers restaurant,” he began,
displaying his first smile to the crowd.